Monthly Archives: February 2026

Personal

[From the Diaries]

I want to handle this calmly. I don’t want to lose my mind over it.

Because if this really sinks into my skin, I swear my soul will collapse under it.

So please, don’t let the first thing you say be “block her.”
Instead, read the messages she sent me. Actually read them. And try to understand what they have done to me. How they’ve made me feel.

And if there is even a fragment of truth in what she’s saying, come clean with me.

You don’t even have to apologize. You’ll probably say you did nothing wrong. Maybe in your version of events, you didn’t. But I deserve the truth.

I’m not holding onto you. I’m not trapping you. I’m begging you, please don’t use me. I have always known you were never mine to keep. I was always anxious about that. I knew what I was stepping into. That part isn’t on you. It’s on me.

I love you with my whole heart. So tell me now if this will never be good for me.

I would understand you even at your worst. Lie, cheat, steal, I would still try to understand you. That’s how deeply I love you. There isn’t an ounce of hate in me for you. I promise. Even if loving you costs me everything I’ve built within myself.

But please. I am begging you. Tell me the truth. 

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Personal

[From the Diaries]

This is for you to read someday, if you’re ever sober.

I am truly sorry I couldn’t be there for you through your recovery and support you the way I wanted to. I wanted to. But the way you were treating me left my spirit in the trenches.

I was slowly losing myself. My confidence. My ability to have faith. It felt like I was always standing at the edge of a cliff with you, and you would either push me off or jump yourself, just to get away from me. Because you lacked the capacity to comprehend my emotions.

It’s hard to imagine that you were once the man who promised that my smile was all you wanted to see for the rest of your life, if possible. And yet lately, all I’ve found is myself crying hysterically, breaking down with no one to hold me. Wondering how love could feel this way. How someone who swears he loves you, and still says he does, can make you feel nothing but stab wounds.

Every time you hung up on me when I didn’t want to let you go.
Every time you left when I couldn’t bear to be alone.
Every time you drove me to the worst corners of my mind simply through your lack of empathy and compassion.

I miss the man who loved me. I will forever miss him. My heart belongs to him.

I don’t blame you for your condition. But who is going to take care of me while you are throwing yourself away? And not just throwing yourself away, but hurting me terribly in the process. Even when I tell you I am in pain, you feel little to nothing. It’s like your empathy has vanished. And I am left feeling like nothing.

I can’t keep doing this to myself. I am not walking away because I want to be without you. I am walking away because trying to be with you has become the hardest thing I have ever done. You constantly push me away and kick me to the ground. I find myself lying there helpless, like a wounded soldier after war, hoping someone will find me.

But no one will. So I have to take care of myself.

I pray that you find your peace and your path to righteousness. I hope that someday God rekindles your ability to love properly. Most of all, I hope you find your way back to yourself, because he is pretty damn amazing, and the world misses him.

All my love, my baby.

I will try not to call you. But I am weak too. I hope you will be kind to me on the days I lose the battle between my heart and my mind and reach out.

But I will try my best not to.

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Personal

[From the Diaries]

You always have to remember why you ended things with someone. So you don’t romanticize it later. So you don’t go back and rewrite history in their favor.

We last spoke at 2 AM. He said he was sorry.
Sorry. Such an easy word.
But the weight of a sorry on someone’s psyche can do irreversible damage.

I hadn’t seen him since Wednesday afternoon. He’d been distant since then. I was hoping to see him Wednesday evening. Then Thursday. Even Friday. Nothing.

I finally called him Saturday evening. No answer.
The kind of silence that sends chills through your entire body.

And then I did something I never thought I would do. I monitored his Snap score. Even typing that now feels insane. That I had to reduce myself to numbers and increments and digital breadcrumbs. But I did.

When I saw it go up by two points, something in me snapped. That was it. I was done.

I couldn’t keep torturing myself. I couldn’t keep shrinking into someone who waits, who checks, who spirals.

So I blocked him. Everywhere.

And then the panic set in. My chest tightened. My breathing felt shallow and fast. I had to sit down and consciously breathe in and out, reminding myself that I was safe. That heartbreak is not death. That letting go, even when it burns, is sometimes the only way to save yourself.

I knew it would hurt.
But I also knew that holding on would hurt more.

And maybe I will love again.
Or maybe I won’t.

But what I do know is this: I chose myself in that moment. And even if it feels unbearable right now, there is something freeing about finally saying, enough.

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